


Shadow

by levicopter



Category: StarCraft
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-LOTV, Protoss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:56:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6664930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levicopter/pseuds/levicopter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most protoss didn't see Vorazun as an individual and unique nerazim, they saw her as “Raszagal's daughter”. They had high hopes for her to become the same calm and gentle leader her mother was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow

It was a cold night on Shakuras. You could hear the wind scream through the bark of the trees. A night like this was not uncommon for the dark templar who lived here for centuries. The Khalai templar, however, were not used to such cold nights. To them, this place had no natural tranquility. It was lifeless, empty.

With each step Artanis made on the dry ground, he missed his Home even more. Aiur was  _ alive _ . It was green, dim lights of overseers and pylons shone on each structure and organism walking near it. And most importantly: it was warm.

The only way the newly made hierarch, could fall asleep each cold night, was tiring himself by taking long walks outside the city of the nerazim – dark templar.

He spotted a river near by, illuminated by native turquoise insects. He also saw another protoss sitting on a rock near the river.

Artanis almost instantly recognized the figure. The burning, green eyes, a typical sign of the dark templar. The elegant but powerful posture, the unusual long but still severed nerve cords...

Artanis approached the nerazim, about to speak, but they were faster.

“Isn't it too late for you,  _ Hierarch _ ?” The speaker turned around to face the hierarch, their eyes fixed on his skyblue ones.

“I could ask you the same, Vorazun. What are you doing here?”

Her gaze fell on the ground, and turned back to the river. Artanis sat himself down next to her, his eyes curiously looking to the river as well, trying to figure out what the matriarch of the nerazim was silently looking at.

Then, she finally spoke. “It's been exactly five years as of today.”

“I thought you didn't feel sorrow or grief anymore.”

Vorazun turned to him, raising her voice just a little bit. “ **_I_ ** am over it already. The... others aren't. And that irritates me.”

Artanis never understood the relationship Vorazun had with her deceased mother. She didn't seem like she had any sort of affection towards her. Most of the time it seems as if she disliked Raszagal a lot.

“Raszagal was a great leader. They willl move on eventually.” he began, he was collecting his words but got interrupted.

“Of course, They will once I am dead.”

The uncomfortable silence struck them again. The only things they could hear, were the noises of the insects flying around the river, and colossi walking in the distance. Vorazun's brow tensed, and she closed her eyes. She tried to calm down. Even though they weren't always on good terms, Artanis felt that she wanted to keep talking to him. It was one of the rare occasions where the two of them could talk in private. And the first occasion of them not talking about politics or war, but something more personal.

“I get called 'Raszagal' at least five times a day.” her voice was calm and focused. Artanis nodded at her words. “... I hear your, and even  _ my _ people talk about how good and nice it would be if I were more like  _ her _ .”

Artanis could hear a slight hint of bitterness as the matriarch spoke. She wasn't angry... she was disappointed.

“My mother died 5 years ago, Artanis, yet her shadow still casts on me. I am sure half your people don't even know my name, therefore just call me ' _ matriarch _ '.”

That was not true, Artanis thought to himself. Although he did notice that most protoss didn't see Vorazun as an individual and unique nerazim, they saw her as “Raszagal's daughter”. They had high hopes for her to become the same calm and gentle leader her mother was. The way how she apparently looks exactly like her mother doesn't make it any better.

“I am  **not** her.” She muttered to herself, digging her claws into the rock they sat on. “I never was and I will never be.”

Artanis looked for words to comfort her. To show her that not only him, but also his people saw Vorazun as the great leader and warrior she was. Her mother, while being said to be a great dark templar in her youth, was more of a diplomat than fighter.

He decided to go for an embrace. A quiet gesture, more common around terrans. Vorazun, while surprised at the gesture, didn't move. They shared the moment in silence. 

She took a deep breath, leaning her head against his shoulders. 

“Vorazun…” he began “your mother was a great sign for our people. An example of a calm leader, the starter of the united protoss, … a great mother.” he could feel her gaze on him, but he observed the local critters as he spoke.

“Your people still can't believe what has happened. That… one of our--  **your** kind, was forced to end the torment that was set upon her by the Queen of Blades.” 

The matriarch tensed up as she listened. Her eyes burning with slight rage. Artanis turned to face her, putting his clawed hand caring on her sculptured shoulder. 

“They don't want you to be like her. They want you to continue her legacy-- in being a great leader, just like her. To lead the nerazim into victory while working together with us. And  **I** know this is possible.” 

She watched him closely, listening to his every word, and nodded slowly. 

Artanis’ eyes met hers. He was happy he could lift her mood up at least one bit. With closed eyes, she leaned in closer, softly pressing her face against his, sending him tender psionic impulses.  The gentle waves of psionic energy filled Artanis’ body with warmth. His face turned a light shade of blue at her gesture. 

“Thank you…” she whispered while standing up. She looked at him confident as always, but also calm.  “... Thank you for your company, Hierarch. It’s getting late, I should head for my chambers.”

He nodded at her, after which she left. That was one of the moments where he wished he knew what was going in in her head. What she  _ felt _ . He turned his head back to the sea. His mind set on the Matriarch and their conversation. 

 

***

 

The night wasn't long for Artanis. After just a few hours of sleep, he has been woken up by loud noise outside his chambers. He untangled his feet from  his bed sheets to get a look at what's happening outside.   He got up and moved to his window, only to be surprised at what he saw: 

Hundreds of probes, working on a monument, made of, what seemed to be, Shakuras’ obsidian marble. A very sturdy, but beautiful material.  Even though the monument was far from finished, Artanis could recognize the half-done face already.  It was Raszagal. A monument in her memory.

 

Artanis eyes softened at the sight. Even after just a few hours of sleep, this day couldn't start better. 


End file.
